


Diana

by Anonymous



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Monster Hunters, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Angst, Anon April, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Catholic Imagery, Enemies to Lovers, Enemy Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Gore, Hunters & Hunting, Latin, Mild Gore, Minor Violence, Monster Hunters, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Revenge, Southern Gothic, Unspecified Historical Era, Unspecified Setting, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 01:28:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18325916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “You’re no Knight.” The woman speaks above the prayer, still before him, nude, honey skin slathered with the blood of her previous form. It should not be beautiful. “So why do you lie to yourself, Ben Solo?”A name that stops him mid-verse.





	Diana

“Exorcizámos te, ómnis immúnde spíritus, ómnis satánic potéstas.” The hunter has his beast cornered, wind howling through the hollowed out halls of this old cabin, the entire building creaking and shuddering against nature itself. “Ómnis infernális adversárii, ómnis légio, ómnis congregátio et sécta diabólica.” A white wolf crouches before him; sharp teeth barred, sepia eyes aflame. “In nómine et virtúte Dómini nóstri _Jésu Chrísti_.” An old rosary with wooden beads and a silver chain hangs from one hand, Jesus swings on his cross, a hypnotic back and forth motion.

Dawn begins to crack outside, the gloom of the early autumn dulling the first rays. The wolf begins to twitch, bones cracking as its body twists inhumanly.

Unnatural, just like its very existence. A curse to be expunged, a pest to be snuffed out under the heel of his boot. That’s what a hunter does.

A painful lament shakes the entirety of the building, but Kylo Ren does not falter.

“I know who you are.” It says, begins sounding more female as its joints crack and pop, body distending, changing. Skin and pelt slide off in bloody heaps, landing wetly on the warped floorboards below. A human face pushes through the gaping maw of the wolf as she sheds her sin, comes to a stand amidst her own gore and sinew. The sight of her shaking off the last vestiges of sanguine-drenched fur should make him recoil, but Kylo stands steadfast.

Until the moment she looks up, a beam of light shining through a gap in the wallboards hitting her angular features. Suddenly not a beast, but a young woman (and hardly a woman at that). Lean, but underfed, yet still a defiant strength in her posture.

“Another name, whispered by the trees, by others.” She steps closer, and he clutches onto his beads tighter. On his belt hangs a pistol holding bullets tainted with monkshood. Kylo’s fingers twitch for it, but her melodic voice causes him to hesitate.

This has never happened. The man takes pride in his reputation as a cold, calculated hunter, someone who doesn’t hesitate to hit the mark. Entire packs decimated, towns freed, cattle saved.

Kylo is good at what he does, but hearing the voice of the monster he’s been playing cat and mouse with for years is jarring.

He begins to recite the incantation again.

“You’re no Knight.” The woman speaks above the prayer, still before him, nude, honey skin slathered with the blood of her previous form. It should not be beautiful. “So why do you lie to yourself, Ben Solo?”

A name that stops him mid-verse, an opportunity she takes to shove passed him, towards her exit. She moves fast, as if he hasn’t been on her tail all night, unabashed as she sprints through the arch where the front door was. Kylo snaps out of it and begins to follow, hand curling around the grip of his gun. In all the years he’s been tracking her, the lone white wolf, this is the closest he’s ever gotten, and he’s desperate not to let her slip away.

But the thicket of trees surrounding the abandoned structure offer her coverage, and although he can hear twigs snapping and underbrush being disturbed, he cannot tell from which direction it comes.

“ _Damn_.” Kylo hisses in annoyance as he shoves his weapon back into its leather holster.

The shewolf was but a pup when she killed his master, weakened and forced to indeterminably revert back to her beastly state, though not weak enough to stop her from ripping out the flesh of Snoke’s throat. Kylo was young and foolish then, but he’s carried on his teachings like a religion, intent on avenging the man who was meant to teach him everything he knows. He’s chased her for years, but each time he catches up to the girl she moves; it could be months, even years before he catches wind of her again.

Next time, he tells himself like every other, he’ll be prepared. She’s nothing but a wolf in a sheep’s, a _lamb’s_ skin, and he will never forget that sweet face. No longer can she hide among towns and villages to pose as human.

Pocketing his rosary, Kylo breathes a sigh of frustration.

How did she learn of his dead name?

There’s a town a few miles south of the cabin according to the map a local barkeep gave to him when he first arrived in the area. His horse is still tied up in front of the inn where he’s been staying since he heard rumors of an albino beast killing a farmer’s cow. Kylo had been in the midst of clearing out a brood of vampires — a job he dropped entirely for the sake of his own revenge. In retrospect, foolish, but at the very least his presence in the previous town seemed to scare the parasites off.

“Something on your mind?” A mustached man asks as he slides a mug of beer across the counter. Polite, but not genuine. Kylo catches it and watches as the foam sloshes over the rim.

“The Lintras shouldn’t have to worry about their cattle anymore.” He answers simply. “You can tell them the Knights of Ren handled it.” Grabbing for his drink, Kylo downs the mug in one go and unceremoniously slams a handful of coins down on the counter. There’s always another job, and with enough daylight leftover he can ride off to the next town before their inn closes for the night.

Sure in his assumption that the white wolf is long gone by now, he moves on. Though his mind remains in the past, on the image of a smaller version of his prey latched onto Master Snoke’s neck, drooling blood onto the white marble floor. Kylo, a young apprentice at the time, stood too shocked to pull the trigger. Nearly a decade later, the wolf he likes to think he knows as well as he knows himself still has the power to render him powerless. He’d never seen the woman inside the beast, but this revelation does nothing to dissuade his desire for vengeance.   



End file.
